Marked as an Equal: Draft
by Redb4Black
Summary: Albus Dumbledore was wise, he was powerful, but nonetheless, he was but a man. As he gazed into the eyes of those that shan't be found in an eleven-year-old and as he hears the word uttered from that mouth rang familiar as a boy before this girl, he wondered if it was too late. He wondered, if this time, the result was born from his mistake. (Discontinued)
1. The Girl Who Lived

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Jk "Joanne" Rowling.

"My word, James!" chastised a red-haired beauty, in one had held something normal people would think was a stick, but to wizards and witches alike it was a wand. The red-haired beauty levelled her gaze towards her sheepish husband, green eyes darkening in what seemed to be anger and a shimmer of hidden amusement. "I can't believe you. Ophelia could've gotten hurt with how fast she was flying!"

James chuckled nervously as he held his bundle of a daughter, meanwhile, Ophelia was gurgling in happiness as she nested within her father's loving embrace which made her mother calm down and melt at the sight. James smiled at his wife, "Sorry, Lily-dear, I got too caught up."

"Oh, this isn't fair," she huffed, "I can't ever get mad at you with Ophelia."

Ophelia Asphodel Potter, honorary daughter of the House of Black, was a bright and inquisitive child. She held eyes that displayed intelligence that a mere child no more than a year old should have, and not to mention her name had been written down as soon as she was born. All in all, we have quite the witch on our hands.

She watched as her mother visibly calmed down, although her young mind can't comprehend the exact meaning, she knew enough that her mother was no longer mad at her father. Satisfied, Ophelia clapped her hands drawling warm smiles from her parents.

It was a quiet evening, James was busy tinkering with the wards while Lily was keeping herself busy in the kitchen. Lily briefly reached down to touch her slightly swollen belly, she was three months pregnant and James had agreed with her to have Severus be the Godfather while they'd have Professor McGonagall as godmother.

Lily sighed as she stroked her belly, her only wish was for everything to be safe, for her family to remain untouched. Call it a mother's intuition, but she just knee this little life in her was a boy. He was going to be such a protective little lion over her darling Ophelia.

Lily allowed herself to slip into a fantasy, she imagined that her husband would be fussing which guy friend her little Ophelia befriended would he his son in law, then she giggled a little when James would realise his daughter would have to get married, Merlin forbid it.

Lily could see Sirius backing James up saying how no one would he worthy of his little prongslet. And Lily would have the backing of Remus about how ridiculous the entire affairs was. Perhaps their little son that was growing in her would side with James on the fact his sister would belong to no one but them. And Peter would try to break all the fuss while supporting each side occasionally. And Ophelia would be exasperated with the whole event and just resigned in amusement...

Not noticing it, Lily found herself with tears rolling down her cheeks. She leaned both hands against the kitchen counter and sobbed quietly to herself. It wouldn't happen because of this stupid war, Remus was suspected as a spy, Peter haven't been seen since two months ago and Sirius was just called two days ago to attend a raid retrieval.

Two arms wrapped around her and a warm lips pressed themselves to her temple, she found her husband's sweet whisper into her ears promising a good life if they were to get out of this. Once The war was over, they'd leave Magical Britain never to be seen again, never to be involved again.

"Sirius and Remus could come, and Severus too if you want," he said. Lily found herself nodding as she buried herself into the warm embrace of her husband. "Oh, James... I just wish all this war to end. I want our babies to have a good life, I want to be able to scold them when needed, to love when unconditionally, to show them how much they mean to me."

"I know, Lily-pad, I know," James whispered, "It won't be long. Soon, this war will end and we'll live together as a family, happy."

James was right about one thing, the war would end soon... Or perhaps a better term would be, there would be a cease fire for a while. What he got wrong was the fact they would be a whole family, and happy. After all, as they say and we all know, Fate is a bitch.

James was the first to feel it, not long after, Lily did too. It was a cold sensation, despair, hatred, fury and triumph flooded into the air like water down an empty pipe. It was chilling, worse than a Dementor. James wasted no time in asking his wife to run, he cursed Peter in the process, before gripping his wand in his hand. Leveling it to the door, the hinges blasted open and there stood the most disgusting being to ever walked on earth, The Dark Lord.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't James Potter." The Dark Lord gave a rather nasty grin and in a flash, without his want, he uttered the two words responsible for the deaths of those out there, "Avada Kedavra."

Like a sack of potatoes, the young Lord of Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter fell to his death. His body dropped onto the floor and life faded from his hazel eyes that usually was filled with mischief. The Dark Lord sneered at the corpse that hit his feet, he kicked it aside and advanced towards the floor above where a trading magical signature was flaring about like some first year Gryffindor. He suppose a filthy mudblood couldn't amount to anything more than just that.

The Dark Lord descended upon the stairs and merely scoffed at the other magical's attempt to block his entry. With a wave of his hand, the door erupted along with whatever furniture used to block it. The woman laid the baby on the crib, turned to him and she begged.

How utterly humiliating. This was the woman who mothered the so call person that would "vanquish" him? Amusing.

"Step aside, girl." He said, hoping to end his objective faster, but of course, Gryfindors would be Gryffindors. She defied him, three times, and his patience broke. Muttering the two words, sickly green light hit her and down she fell like a rag doll. He turned his attention to the toddler before him, eyes shining much like the curse he had just performed. "It's a waste, but alas, sacrifices must be made for the greater good... Avada Kedavra."

That night, The Girl Who Lived was born. Born into a world of Tragedy.

A/N: I actually written a similar one before on here titled Asphodel Ash Potter. But then things happened and got banned in my country and when I had access to it I deleted the story to avoid any readers that would like my book having to suffer from a discontinued book. I revised the older version of what I wrote and found that I didn't like the way it was portrayed. So this is basically a revised version of that book. When I finally got a solid access to this site, I published this book along with another under the title "Of Titles and Courtrooms"

This time, I spent more time debating with myself on how Fem!Harry was to be named. At first, I had wanted the name to be as written before, which was Asphodel with the nickname Ash, but I find that it wasn't suitable as I may slip back into the writing phrase of before. So I went surfing for names, then my friend who was asking what had me troubled suggested I break the tradition of authors naming Fem!Harry after flowers?

I told them that daughters in the Evans family were named flower and there has been Fem!Harry who has non-flower names, such as Harriet or Ebony or Artemis and such. My friend understood what I meant so she suggested a name after a monarch? Make it a "Potter Tradition", make it up. It wasn't such a bad idea so I looked it up, Mary, Elizabeth, Anne, Victoria (I was tempted with the name Victoire but had decided against it) none of them had caught my eye. I was disappointed and my friend said not to fret. So we went on with name hunting.

By then, I was really going to give up and use the name Harriet or Asphodel, my friend hit me on the head for that. So I figure I would turn back to flowers again after all? We ended up with the name Briar-Rose... which was then denied by the only guy friend I had who read fanfics. He claimed, as I quote, "No guy wants to call a girl by such a long name. It's troublesome." which made sense to my ears. But then the other friend who had been helping me with this problem said that she could always shorten her name to Briar or Rose which I promptly denied. No character of mine is going to be called Rose on my watch.

So we were back to square one. Then we turned to mythology, stars and constellations. Leaning towards Harry's connection to the black through Sirius and his grandaunt Dorea. We were thinking of changing the relations a little, naming Dorea and Charlus Harry's grandparents instead of Fleamont and Euphemia, making it more... realistic? (Not sure if that's the word I should use.) that Fem!Harry was named after some star or constellation.

So after a long research, we settled on a choice between two names, Ophelia and Casseopia. It was already decided that Asphodel remained as part of her name so we made it her middle name, so now was either Ophelia or Casseopia... which in the end as you read, Ophelia won. Because Casseopia, in my opinion, was too much of a hassle to type, and plus Casseopia was already someone's name and to my knowledge, no Black had the name Ophelia yet so I was a goner for that name :P

And that was how we ending up deciding on Fem!Harry name as Ophelia. Now thank you for those who actually read my long story, do comment what you think on the name Ophelia Asphodel Potter... honorary Black. :D I hope the story pleased you.


	2. Markings of a Witch

Mr and Mrs Dursley, of Four Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr Dursley was a beefy man with hardly any neck, small watery eyes and a huge moustache that seemed to cover up more than half of his wife. He was known to be a very much temperamental man and was known to snap at his co-workers often. His wife, on the other hand, Mrs Dursley, was a slim blonde woman with twice the amount of neck her husband had -It helps her peeking at the neighbors habits, you see-, she was a soft-spoken woman who really the iron fist in the family, really.

The Dursley had a small son named Dudley, in their opinion there was no finer boy out there. Mrs Dursley had a sister, one who was everything the Dursley was not. She was strange, mysterious, she was a freak. Mrs Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, it was a secret to anyone if it were to came out they were related to the Potter family, the family Mrs Dursley's sister married into. The Potters had a daughter, and heavens fobid if their freak of a child were to mix with Dudley.

When Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore dropped the daughter of the freak Potters at their doorstep with a letter, the Dursley wasted no time at all to drive to the furthest orphanage possible on a drive to reach and drop the little freak off. It wouldn't do if their niece were to end up tallking to Dudley in school if they were to end up in the same one.

"It's, we have no idea who she is, we found her on the strret and felt bad for the little babe who was left in the winter cold." Petunia blew into her hankerchief as she faced the orphanage matron with her watery blue eyes, "Please, won't you take her?"

The orphange Matron looked down at the baby in a casket and sighed exasperatingly, "Yes, okay, whatever. What's her name?"

"Oh, it was written in this letter, you see," Petunia handed over a fabricated letter, "Her name is Ophelia Asphodel Potter, a fr-weird name."

"Hm, interesting," The matron commented before carrying the baby into her arms, "Thank you for your help. You're such a lovely person to go all this way just to keep a child safe."

Petunia Dursley sniffed.

"Best be on you way, Miss," The matron smiled, "May the Lord be with you."

That marked the day Fate shifted and Destiny obeyed.

\- 0 -

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys left their niece in some orphanage, the years had not been kind to the once pristine orphanage. The grass were still trimmed and green, but the gates were rusty, albeit painted, walls were tattered and beds were overused. Passing the gates were two wizards famous throughout the entire secret community- Magical Britain.

Albus Dumbledore entered the gates of the orphanage alongside with a scowling man dressed in black named Severus Tobias Snape. The man was indignant at the fact he was forced to accompany the headmaster on this trip to fetch the young Potter. In his mind, an image of the young Potter was already painted explicitly, he was sure the daughter of James Potter would be as arrogant and as egoistic.

Albus smiled as he was greeted by a young girl dressed in white and had her ginger hair tied into two twin braids, her freckles seemed to be more prominent as Albus and Severus walked closer towards her, "Good evening, I belive we have an appointment with Ms Moore, who, I belive is the Matron?"

The girl squeaked and nodded frantically, "Oh, yes, wait- MS MOORE!"

Albus, along with a reluctant Severus Snape, walked into the orphanage, shoes touching the squeaky clean white tiles. The orphanage was spacious on the inside, white walls seemed to add on to that effect and there weren't much furniture lying around.

As soon as the front door closed in on them, a dumpy scowling woman with thinning black hair greeted them. She was reprimanding a young boy who had a messy mop of brown hair, "Honestly, this is the last time. One more time, Jeremy, one more time, and you'll be out before you can even apologize. Understood?"

"Yes, Ms Moore."

"Really, such a sinner you are—" Madam Moore cut herself off as soon as she laid her eyes on Dumbledore and Snape. She gave a look of disapproval at the sight of Dumbledore's attire but managed to hold her tongue.

"Good evening," Dumbledore said softly, extending a hand out for a shake. Madam Moore regarded him suspiciously and ignored the outstretched hand.

"My name is," Dumbledore paused lightly as his glasses slipped down a little, "Is Albus Dumbledore. And this man over here is Severus Snape. I believe a letter was sent over here and you have so generously accepted our invitation to visit."

Madam Moore seemed put off by Dumbledore but managed a nod, "Yes, oh yes, please come to my office."

The two wizards followed the muggles deeper into the orphanage as the other orphans gawked at them as if they were a new animal in the zoo. Dumbledore seemed to be ignorant to the stares, or perhaps he had not care for them, however Snape was glowering at the stares. Clearly, the younger wizard of the two was displeased at the attention he was given.

"I am here, as mentioned in letter, to discuss about a girl named Ophelia Potter and her future." Dumbledore smiled, blue eyes twinkling madly.

Madam Moore paled lightly, "I-i see, I assume you're family?"

None of them had missed the stutter in her words. Snape had sneer at the thought of being related to Potter's spawn while Dumbledore merely smiled, "No, no, I am a teacher."

"A teacher?" Madam Moore tested the words on her tongue, "A teacher for special children?"

There was silence before someone spoke.

"I suppose yes," Dumbledore spoke, "It's a school of the gifted."

"And you've come... For that girl?" Madam Moore whispered, eyes darting around. The action caused boh wizards to narrow their eyes, "You... Are offering her a scholarship I assume?"

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore confirmed, "Her name has been down since she was born—"

"But we've never registered for her!" Madam Moore blurted out, "Was it her parents? Guardians?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes and slipped his wand out behind his robes. He conjured a piece of envelop and handed over to the Matron, "I believe this would explain it."

Madam Moore blanked for a moment, when she was back herself, she nodded. "This seems to be in order."

Severus couldn't resist himself, "What is the girl like?"

Madam Moore blinked at the man who had been quiet for the entire ordeal, "Well, quiet. She never had any friends, the others seemed scared of her. They didn't want anything to do with her, and I suppose she never saw it as a problem. She's quite intelligent, a large diction... But, she's weird... I presume she had been possessed but none of my attempts had been successful."

The last part was whispered so softly the wizards could hardly hear it. But they had, and boy were they paling.

"I'll, I'll take you to her." Madam Moore said before walking out of her office. The two wizards exchanged looks before following after the lady. They reached a door which was big, oak colored, and seemed so intimidating. On the door was a paper note with words written "Do not enter."

Snape sneered, typical spoiled brats.

Madam Moore knocked twice, "Ophelia?

A soft voice replied, "Come in."

When the door opened, Snape sucked in a breath. Before him was a lady, not a girl, she was regal like a Black, beauty like the Malfoys and an air that surrounds her reminded him of none other than the Dark Lord himself. She faced them and her green eyes were not in the slightest like Lily, they were bright and the color of death, Avada Kedavra.

"Madam Moore, how may I help you?" Her voice carried weight as she spoke, they spoke of confidence, assurance, power and promises... Snape had unknowingly stepped back a little at the display.

"Oh, Ophelia, these people are offering you a scholarship! I'll be in the kitchens if you need me, do get along." Madam Moore said hurriedly, before leaving.

Green eyes snapped towards them and Snape felt a chill down his spine. Her lips spoke again, softly, as if she has no need to speak louder than she was, "How may I be of assistance to you, sirs?"

"Hello, Ophelia," Dumbledore seemed unfazed as he smiled at her, "My name is Albus Dumbledore, or as you may refer me to soon if you were to accept, Professor Dumbledore."

Snape was taken aback by her reponse, Ophelia's eyes narrowed immediately and it became icy cold and guarded. If it was shining before, the eyes were deadly now. "Professor? Are you another one of those doctors or exorcists? What are you doing here Did that woman ask you to come look at me?"

"Oh no," Dumbledore denied, "Of course not."

"I don't believe you," Ophelia refuted, "She asked you to rid me of the devil again, didn't she? Didn't she!?"

Snape felt a desire to answer but had managed to keep his mouth shut by biting on his tongue. He eyed the spawn of his arch enemy warily, this was not normal. Dumbledore seemed to have aged as the words came tumbling out of her mouth. Ophelia seemed to be even warier as none of the wizards answered her, "Who are you?"

"My name, as I've said, is Albus Dumbledore. This man beside me is Severus Snape. We have come to offer you a place at our new school, Hogwarts, where I teach."

Ophelia seemed to be emotionless, her next words were the only thing that betrayed her emotions. "A school? It's an asylum isn't it? You think I'm barmy, loony, barking mad! That woman must have put you up to this, school my bleeding arse, you're here to detain me are you not? I never did anything to those girls!"

There was yet again a defeating silence.

Snape closed his eyes and swallowed. Somehow, he had a bad feeling. Something was crawling up his throat and his mark was burning. It was burning as it had been when the Dark Lord would call for him.

"I am not from an asylum." said Dumbledore patiently, he seemed a little resigned, "I come from Hogwarts, and we will not force you against your will, it's a school for people with special abilities—"

"I'm. Not. Mad." Ophelia sneered, "Nor am I barmy, loony, nor have lost it. Whatever those people told you are codswallop."

"I know you're not crazy, Hogwarts is different. It's a school for magic."

Third time there was silence. Ophelia seemed to be stunned into silence before a look of awe took over. "Magic? Of course, that's what I've been doing. Magic..."

"What have you been doing?"

"Much," Ophelia breathed, "I can make things move without touching them, turns someone's hair or skin color, if I concentrate I can appear to a place far from where I was. I can even make animals do what I want without training them, and sometimes, I can make them hurt when I need to."

Dumbledore seemed to be pale white, Snape knew he himself was not far different. This was not what they were expecting, Snape expected just another typical rowdy Gryffindor, not this.

"I knew I was different, I knew I was special," Ophelia seemed to be in awe, "I knew I wasn't like them."

Snape stilled at this, the way Ophelia referred them was with such loathing and hatred, he couldn't help but relate it to the way the Dark Lord refer to muggles and muggleborn as.

"Well, you're quite right." Dumbledore replied, his twinkle seemed to be absent, replaced by a haunted look and his smile was no longer in place. "You're a witch, Ophelia."

Ophelia blinked at Dumbledore, "Are you one too?"

"Yes."

"Would you mind showing me some proof, sir?"

Dumbledore regarded her solemnly, Snape seemed to be in shock albeit it wasn't really visible, but it was there. For a moment no one moved before Dumbledore took out his wand and pointed at the shelf of books, it caught on fire.

Ophelia widened her eyes but said nothing otherwise.

"You don't seem very worried for the books," Dumbledore commented. Ophelia looked at him coolly, "I've memorized everything written in those books, I have no attachments to them."

Dumbledore cancelled the spellwork without another word.

"Are all of those books yours?" Dumbledore asked calmly, Ophelia gave him a calculating look before giving an answer, "It belongs to the orphanage."

"And why is it in your room if it belongs to the orphanage," Dumbledore looked at her. Snape was hoping to get the hell out of the orphanage as soon as possible, "when it does not belong to you?"

"Madam Moore placed them in my care, seeing how I was the only who read them." Ophelia blinked, two can play that game.

"I have you know, hoarding, is not permitted in Hogwarts." Dumbledore stated firmly. Something flashed pass Ophelia's eyes before a cold look took over her face, "Yes, sir."

"At Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on, "we teach you not only to use magic, but to control and manipulate it. You have, inadvertently, I am sure, been using your magic i a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school. You are not the first, and definetely not the last, to allow your magic to run away with you. But you should know that Hogwarts would expel students within our rights and our Ministry of Magic-"

"We have a Ministry?" Ophelia asked curiosly.

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, we have a Ministry... ah, as I was saying, the Ministry will punish lawbreakers still more severely. All wizards must accept that regardless if they are new or old. They must abide by our laws."

"Yes, sir," said Ophelia again. Snape watched her expression, he prided himself in being able to easilly read his student's expressions, but Potter- it was impossible to know what she was thinking. Her face was now blank, when a dawn of something swept pass her face she looked ta Dumbledore sharply, "I haven't got any money."

"That shall be no burden," said Dumbledore, drawing a tiny golden key from his pocket, "Your parents has more than enough to-"

"My parents?" Snape personally thought even the Dark Lord would shudder at how cold this child sounded. The ton was filled with pure malice and distrust that Snape shudder to think what would become of he child before him.

Dumbledore adopted a solemn look, "Your parents, James and Lily Potter, were murdered by a mass killing Dark Lord when you were one. You, Ophelia Potter, are the last remaining Potter and is famous. You are known as the Girl Who Lived, the only known person to survive a killing curse-"

"What is this Dark Lord's name?"

"Voldermort." Dumbledore stated bluntly, Snape repressed a shudder at the name, "Many would call him by a title but I must say not to. Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself."

"I see," Ophelia hummed in thought, "Thank you for informing me, sir. Where do you buy spellbooks and my equipments?"

"In Diagon Alley," said Dumbledore, "I have your list of books and school equipment with me. Professor Snape, who would be your Potion Teacher, would be glad to help you find everything."

"You would be coming with me, sir?" said Ophelia, looking at Snape. Snape looked down at the child, "If I must."

"There's no need," said Ophelia, "I'm used to getting things done on my own. How do you get to.. Diagon Alley- sir?" she added, looking at both wizards.

Dumbledore gestured at Snape who handed over an envelop containing the list of equipment and a map. He then said, "You will be able to see Leaky Couldron, althought Muggles around you will not. Ask for Tom the barman for help."

"Muggles?"

"Non-magical people."

"I see," Ophelia read the letter in her hand. She looked up at Dumbledore and seemed to be thinking about something before decided against it. "Goodbye, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape."

"Goodbye, Ophelia. We shall see you at Hogwarts."

As the wizards left, Ophelia remained the only one in the room. She blinked before setting the papers from the envelop on her study table. She slammed the door shut with a wave of her hand and smirked. It seems she had not need to think much of what she was to do if she was not adopted before 18.


	3. Diagonally Entering

Ophelia Asphodel Potter was special. She was not like other girls who seemed to be more interested in their looks and securing a rich husband. She was not like the boys who loved dirtying themselves either. Ophelia was quiet, reserved, calculative, cruel and merciless.

At Wool's orphanage, an orphanage that had been rebuilt after an arson attack approximately fifty years ago, everyone, adults and children alike, knew the horror by the name Ophelia Potter. She had turned up one fateful day ten years ago, delivered by a blonde haired lady who claimed to have found her on the streets. Many of the adults had suspected the blonde haired lady was, in fact, Ophelia's mother. But the speculation never met light as their resemblance was little to none.

To the residents of Wool's orphanage, Ophelia Potter was a freak, a devil's child and a phenomenon. Things happened around the young Potter, strange, unexplainable things. The matron and the other adults condemned her to be a devil's child, able to perform mishaps and terror. The children viewed her as a monster, they saw her as the devil himself.

When she was told there's a whole other society out there like her, Ophelia was ecstatic. She stole some money from the matron, Madam Moore, and left on a cab to Leaky Cauldron. When she arrived, Ophelia took in every detail. It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. Truth to be told, Ophelia didn't think she would've noticed it if she had not known to look for it.

She walked in and saw a few old women sitting in a corner of the pub, they seemed to be drinking tiny glasses of sherry. Or perhaps it could be a type of a drink only the magical world served. The low buzz of chatter seemed to serve as a distraction for Ophelia to slip her way through the crowded place.

At the counter, she saw a little man in a top hat who was talking to a bald old man who looked liked a toothless walnut. Ophelia supposed he was the bartender seeing how he was, well, behind the bar. Ophelia walked closer to them and waited for some time, as soon as they were finished talking, she approached them. "Good morning, sir, would you mind helping me to get to Diagon Alley?"

"Muggleborn, perhaps?" Tom smiled good naturedly, "Welcome to the wizarding world. Name's Tom. The entrance is back here."

Ophelia followed silently, in her mind, was concluding by the term of muggleborn. Muggle was what Dumbledore and Snape referred non-magicals as muggleborn must have been magical beings born to muggles. Ophelia's mind began moving a mile a minute, what causes this to happen? How was it possible for mere muggles to gain abilities of witch and wizards?

Ophelia followed after Tom, the bartender, out into a small, walled courtyard, where it was littered with trash and populated by weeds. Ophelia frowned but said nothing as Tom brought out a stick- wand, Ophelia corrected herself mentally. "Let's see... remember it well, lass, you'll need it."

Ophelia looked at Tom intendedly, eyes memorising his every movement. He tapped the wand on the brick three up, two across, for three times. The brick he tapped quivered, shook a little in fact- and in the middle a small hole manifested it grew wider and wider and a second later, a wide-eyed Ophelia was greeted by an archway large enough to fit Big Foot, it was an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted around and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Tom, "to Diagon Alley."

Tom grinned at Ophelia's poorly hidden astonishment. Ophelia finally regained her composure and looked towards Tom, "Thank you for helping me. I don't suppose you have a map to help my way around, do you?"

"A map?" Tom paused, before he grinned, "You're a smart one. Haven't been asked for a map in a long time, about fifty years give or take, I'll hand you something better than a map for your insight. No one really asks for one, so might as well give yer to avoid having that little thing collecting dust- spare me some time, won't you, lass."

And off he went to fetch whatever he rambled about. Ophelia blinked before turning her attention to the opened archway before her. She reached a hand out to touch the bricks that had remained intact, at once she felt as if there was a wash of hot shower, it filled her and made her feel so pleased. Ophelia closed her eyes in enjoyment before snapping them open at the sound of nearing footsteps. She backed away and turned to be greeted by Tom, covered in dust from tip to toe, who held a blue strap in his hand.

"Here, I'll show you how it works, tie it around your wrist, go on-" Ophelia eyed the strap curiously, on a closer look there seemed to be faded words on the whole strap, words that Ophelia had not noticed til now. She eventually tied the strap on and watched as the words became clearer and clearer. The words aligned themselves into lines after another till the whole strap was covered. One of the lines was glowing a shimmering gold:

Diagon Alley

"The rest are other alleys, you can access them from this wall the Ductor -That's the thing on your wrist- just tap your wand on the place name and say, Sequentia, and the way to enter will be shown. And to activate a layout map just say the alley name." Tom informed Ophelia who nodded a little more eagerly than before. She smiled politely at Tom, "Your help is most appreciated, I'm Ophelia Potter and it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Tom."

And Ophelia stepped through the archway not looking over to see the shrinking archway or the gaping bartender. She looked down at the strap on her wrist and muttered the name of the alley under her breath. Her eyes brightened as a parchment seemed to be spewed out of the map. The parchment unfolded itself and there was a map that seemed larger than London. Ophelia took out her list of equipment as the map hovered above the strap and read it, "A wand, a couldron, a set of glass or crystal phials.." and so on.

Turning her gaze back to the map she scanned it for a bank and there it was, right at the opposite end of where she stood, in all it's glory stood a white building- "Gringott's Wizard Bank". Ophelia tucked her list away and realised Tom had forgotten to tell her how to turn off the map. She tried telling it to, well, turn off. But that hadn't work out. Pursing her lips, Ophelia glared irritatebly at the strap and blink as the map suddenly disappeared. Curious.

"Good morning, dear, off to your first year at Hogwarts?" It took Ophelia two seconds to realise she was being spoken to. Ophelia turned to look at the woman who stood before her, she was old, ruffled looking and had a overly large nose, "Good morning, ma'am. It is as you said."

"Lovely," The lady clapped, "Care for some sweets?"

"Oh, I shouldn't," denied Ophelia, wanting to get to the Wizard Bank as soon as possible, "I have some..one waiting for me at Gringott's. I shouldn't have them delayed."

"Pity," the lady commented, "Well, off you go. Do come back for some sweets, dear."

"Of course, Ma'am." Ophelia smiled, "It would be my pleasure to visit a kind woman such as yourself."

"Oh none of that, please, call me Augusta." The lady insisted and thus Ophelia complied, "Oh, of course, I must insist upon you calling me Ophelia in return, Augusta."

And Ophelia left, smirking, the stunned lady behind. She watched as the sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldron's beside Madam Augusta's sweetshop. Cauldrons of all sizes and type were on display, each having a sign over them. She took note of the name -"Potage's Cauldron's Shop"- having to remember where she would be getting her cauldron. Her eyes were moving in every direction, left and right, continuously, trying to soak up as much detail as possible. A woman, rather plump, with a red-headed girl tagging behind her was outside and Apothecary, muttering on how expensive Dragon Liver was.

And finally, after passing many many shops, from ones that sold owls to ones that sold broomsticks, she arrived a snowy white building that towered over all the little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was the most curious being Ophelia has ever seen in her life. With it being shorter than Ophelia by a head or slightly more, a swarty, clever face, a pointed beard along with very long fingers and feet: A Goblin.

"Amazing," Ophelia muttered under her breath as she walked up the white stone steps towards the Goblin. The Goblin bowed as she walked in and Ophelia returned the sentiment before she was greeted by a second pair of doors colored in a beautiful shade of silver. Words engraved upon them demanded Ophelia's attention to read it:

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed,_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

 _For those who take, but do not earn,_

 _Must pay most dearly in their return,_

 _So if you seek beneath our floors,_

 _A treasure that was never yours,_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

"Suspicious," she said out loud, "Is this a challenge, sir Goblin?"

Ophelia turned her head slightly at the Goblin who grinned nastily, "Oh, you're welcome to try. If you fail, all of yours shall be claimed."

"And if succeeded?"

The Goblin shot her a nasty look but remained quiet. Ophelia hummed in thought before entering the silver doors, where two other goblins had bowed to her and her to them, a vast marble hall welcomed her. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter table, each of them in a well respected placed and dressed smartly. She walked to a free goblin, "Good morning, I'm here to take some money out of my... safe?"

Ophelia wasn't sure if it was the right word, but she took out her key in case she was wrong. "I have a key to it."

The goblin looked at it closely before glancing up at her, "That seems to be in order. I will have someone to take you down to your _vault_ , Griphook!"

Ophelia understood the underlying mocking tone the Goblin had used when referring to the word vault. Ophelia remained quiet and merely smiled at the sneering Goblin. Griphook, yet another goblin, led Ophelia down the doors - one of them- leading off the hall. Ophelia was surprised by the change of setting as the door opened up, it was a stone passageway, lit with fire, that reminded Ophelia of a dungeon entrance. A small cart came hurtling up the tracks towards them, and Ophelia climbed in cautiously. At first, they were twirling into a maze, Ophelia had tried to remember as much as possible but it proved to be impossible.

The cart stopped at a small door in the passage wall. Ophelia got out and rubbed her eye a little as it had stung, the door was unlocked and clouds of green smoke came flooding out, as it cleared mounds of gold, silver and bronze were stacked one after another. Ophelia turned sharply at Griphook, "Would you mind telling me on the currency of the Magicals and how it works?"

Griphook looked as if he would rather die than answer her question but had done so, "Gold ones are Galleons, silver Sickles and bronze are Knuts. Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a sickle. One Galleon is three pounds."

Ophelia stored the information in her mind, she turned to the her vault and frowned. She had no idea how much her books and equipment would cost. _Do wizards even have cards?_

"Is it possible to store an indefinite amount of money in a small convenient portable compartment?" Ophelia asked, it was magic after all, and magic should have no bounds she presumed. The Goblin seemed to smirk, "Information comes with a price."

Ophelia resisted the urge to give a sneer of her own, "Name it."

"One property." The Goblin proposed making Ophelia look at him in disbelief, " _Denied_. 5 Galleons."

"100 Gelleons."

" _10_ Galleons."

"50 Galleons."

"10 Galleons and _fifteen sickles_."

"40 Galleons."

 _"10 Galleons, Fifteen Sickles and twenty five knutz."_

"Make it Eleven Galleons and it's a deal." The Goblin grumbled, annoyed, making Ophelia smirk. Ophelia nodded, "11 Galleons it is. Now, information as paid."

"There's a pouch." Griphook spat, "It has charms to store indefinite amount if money, making the purse feather and will be keyed to your magical signature to ensure no one will access it but whom the magical signatures was keyed towards to."

"Hm, how much is one." Ophelia nodded, it was a good thing to have, very convenient. Griphook grumbled something before in his hands popped out a white pouch the size of her fist, "20 Galleons. Inclusive of the service of keying your magic signature into it."

"I'll take it." Ophelia said without a second thought. Griphook snapped his fingers and a rush of cold wash upon Ophelia before she found the pouch being levitated towards her. She reached for the pouch and it turned a dark shade of grey. She blinked, "What does it mean for it to change colors."

"It's keyed to your magical signature."

"I know that. I mean—" Ophelia cut herself soft and narrowed her eyes, "Does it indicate the affinity of my magic?"

Griphook gave her a sneer and remained silent. Ophelia bristled but managed to control her urge to fry the Goblin. She hated them, that's for sure, greedy pricks.

"Alright." Ophelia loaded two hundred galleons, Seven hundred sickles and one thousand Knutz. If she had luck, she didn't need to come back next year for another trip. "Let's go."

Griphook paid her no mind and hopped into the cart, followed by Ophelia. It may be her imagination, but the young witch could have sworn that the cart was going faster by the second. Soon she found herself in the sunlight outside of Gringotts. Ophelia cursed herself for not asking about the property Griphook had asked for.

She left the bank with a pouch full of money, key kept, and raised her hand up to call for the map. The familiar parchment appeared and Ophelia headed off to the closest shop where she could buy an equipment.

— 0 —

So sorry for the delay in update, I already added an update schedule (view on my profile) and had intended to follow it. I actually had this done on Friday but I forgot to post it. So sorry.

Anyways, if possible, I would like some help, I'm going to add something that only Slytherin's have, perhaps a hierarchy, or a dueling room. Something similar.

I wanted a hierarchy in the beginning but I'm not sure if it's too cliche. If it was a hierarchy, I'd go for wither Chess Hierarchy or Cards. If I went with chess, there would be pawns and such and perhaps I would add a dueling room.

Cards Hierarchy would be different, it goes with two spade being the largest, followed by the test of the two numbered cards and then it goes down to A spade. Then it would be King, Queen, Joker and so on.

But then it doesn't seem to click in my mind, would anyone suggest something to me? I'm really out of ideas on it and, well, it's a spoiler but obviously Ophelia would be sorted into Slytherin and most likely this would happen in another chapter or two.

Dueling Room of sort I haven't exactly mapped it out yet, but I guess I have to bring something that is only unique to the Slytherin House. Something that no other houses can duplicate or impersonate. Perhaps a portrait of Salazar Slytherin, or his ghost.

This is really killing my head. I honestly need help on this or I would seriously end up doing a hierarchy AND a dueling area. And heaven knows how screwed up that would be.

Just out of curiousity, I've already got Ophelia's wand figured out, but I would like to know what wand wood (and core) do you think would suit Ophelia? Maybe I'll get something better than what I had intended to give.

Anyways, here are the replies to my beautiful reviewers. It may seem weird to some reviewers that I took this long to reply, but it is sort of a thing for me to only reply on the third chapter. If you look at my other book _Of Titles and Courtrooms_ (which I'm working a chapter on and is probably the reason I forgot to upload this chapter)you'll see the same thing happening. Well, here they are:

JaeHufflepuff777 — Thank you, but really, the name is all my friends doing. They deserve more credit than I do. I love Dark!Harry and am glad to see you enjoy my book. :D

AmireimA — Oh and I'm excited to see how you'll react to those chapters.

Kreceir — Well... Hermione Granger... Is... Uh, haha, I'll avoid that question for now.

Sandel — Oh I know the feeling of reading a fic only to find it discontinued. I can't promise perfect grammar, long chapters or fast updates, but what I can promise is I _never_ abandon a story, no matter how long I will take to update it.

Thorin No-Can-Shield – Iloveyourusernameomgee— okay, now, I adore Dark!Harry and Dark!Fem!Harry even more. And my muse is quite active at the moment so you can expect an update by Saturday ;)


	4. Wand Fitting

When Ophelia left the entrance of Gringotts, the first store she went was Magical Menagerie. It was right on the North side of where Gringotts was and it was very noisy- sounds of animals. A familiar hissing noise reached Ophelia's ears and she was immediately entranced. Captivated, she drifted towards the store and found that it was very cramped and noisy – as mentioned – with every inch of wall covered by cages or products. In fact, some products were kept within cages.

Ophelia looked at the saleswoman and smiled, "Good morning, madam, I was outside and couldn't help but overheard the sound of hisses."

The lady looked at Ophelia, as if assessing her worth before nodding, "JOHN! Get yer ase ou' 'ere!"

"Swallow your wails, woman, I'm coming." A gruff man came out wearing tattered clothing and had a very dirty beard on his face. Ophelia grimaced at the attire, the lack of hygiene disgusted her. She placed a forced smile on when the salesman and woman turned their attention back to her, "Hissing sounds? You can heard them, can't you... Come with me, lass."

Ophelia took a moment before she followed, eyes trained on the man in case he lashed out at her and kill her or maim her. Don't blame her, being in an orphanage makes you paranoid. Ophelia followed the man, back into the shop, the walls getting more cramp and lighting darkening, then there it was. A series of hissings, pleads of kills and for murder.

 _ **§Silly humans...§**_

 _ **§Let us out...§**_

 _ **§I'll kill you! Rip! Tear!§**_

Ophelia looked at the tank filled with snakes, one of them was a coral snake, one no longer than the length of her forearm and size smaller than her pinky. She leaned over and the hisses began to decrease, all of them looking at her in curiosity, distain and a little cautiousness. Ophelia glanced at the salesman who was looking at her with a look of utter wariness before back at the snakes.

 **§Hello,§** she hissed, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from the salesman, no, her attention was focused on the snakes who changed their looks to awe and amazement, _ **§A speaker! Graciouss speaker!§**_

 _ **§Noble tongue.§**_

 _ **§Worthy... special...§**_

Ophelia merely looked at them, an amused tug upon her lips, _**§Yes, I am a speaker. From the reaction, I am correct to assume speaking to snakes are rare?§**_

 _ **§Ssspeaker does not know. Poor, ignorant speaker...§**_

 _ **§Speaker is a hatchling. Hatchling wants snakes?§**_

 _ **§Well, that would be why I'm here.§**_ Ophelia agreed, _**§I want a companion in Hogwarts.§**_

That made the snakes even more excited then they were before, _**§Hoggywasssh? The magic place for the King himself? Marvelous, you must bring I.§**_

 _ **§King? King of Snakes?§**_ Ophelia asked, aware and enjoying the uneasiness the Salesman was displaying. She wondered what the language of snakes were called, she wanted to know what caused such a huge reaction – and a negative one at that. It seems to be a good idea after all to conceal it from the professors that informed her of magic. The snakes rambled away of a snake that was hidden deep within the walls of Hogwarts, a snake who was bonded to one that bred it. Ophelia was captivated by the thought.

 _ **§As much as I would like to bring all of you, I am only allowed to bring on, if at all.§**_ Ophelia informed her newly made serpent friends, _**§Would you mind if I brought you, darling?§**_

Ophelia looked at the coral snake she had noticed first, the coral snake was in a skin of the most unique color. Instead of the usual orange, white and black color, this one was green and silver with a hint of gold. The cold lined around each silver strip that separated the green scales that was all over the body. The coral snake raised its head and looked at Ophelia, _ **§It is an honor for I to have been chosen as your companion, speaker.§**_

 _ **§Of course, and what shall I address you as?§**_

 _ **§Anything my speaker wishes of, though I must conditioned to a masculine name to suit my status.§**_ The snake gave an affronted move as it stated the condition. Well, at least that cleared up the snakes gender, Ophelia smirked, _**§Very well, you shall be known as Aphophis.§**_

 _ **§Aphophissss. It is soothing to speak, what of its origin...§**_

 _ **§A spirit of evil, destruction and chaos§**_ Ophelia informed her new companion, stretching her arms forward, the snake cooked itself around her finger before slithering up her fore arm. It circled around her shoulders and managed to hide itself in all but the body which poked out of her collar. _**§Chaos... Dessstruction... Hatchling, you are most appreciated.§**_

 _ **§But of course, my darling.§**_ Ophelia said before turning to the pale salesman, "I would like to purchase this coral snake. Your price?"

He sputtered before stalking towards the other door in the room. Ophelia followed after, she found herself in a darker counter room, the man fumbled around for something, occasionally sneaking glances at her and paling more with each time, "It'll be 5 Galleons."

Paying the stuttering fool, she left the place from a door she had not entered from. Walking outside, she glanced around in wonder, it was dark, cold and murky in this area. Unlike Diagon Alley.

She stopped before a shop name "Virgins Shrine." and stared, was this a brothel? Perhaps she could start a business with them, extend the run down shop and make it large. This must the darker parts, were there others? Which alley was this?

As she walked out, she advanced to where it was the brightest. She wasn't sure if her company was welcomed in the darker parts of this alley. Watching her every movement, Aphophis had followed her example and retreated under her clothes til only his eyes were seemed at the edge of her neck.

Ophelia scanned the crowd and was surprised to see a boy of her age, blond hair that was close to being white, pointed nose and dressed in an aristocrat manner. Beside him was a man, no doubt related, with long blonde hair of the same shade, sharp cheekbones and in his hand was a long, black walking stick.

 _Hello_ , future ally.

Walking towards them was easy, she wasn't singled out or anything, everyone was walking in the same direction she was headed, just not towards the area she was getting to. Ophelia laced her fingers behind her back and ran into them. She straighten herself, "Oh, my apologies. I haven't mean to run into you, sir."

The man and his son looked at her, Ophelia took the chance to place her smile on her face. He sniffed, "It is of no concern but I would appreciate knowing the name of the lady who ran into me."

"Oh, but of course, where were my manners," Ophelia smiled and reached a hand out, her etiquette lessons with the other girls had paid off. Her orphanage's matron had followed the belief of women being the ones who needed to be at home and take care of children. So girls were sent to etiquette classes every year during summer until they reach the age of marriage and then the matron would push the girls to get married. Ophelia has no wish to do so, she would burn the world before she is turned in as a Trophy wife whose job was to do nothing but look pretty besides their husband and spread their legs in private chambers. "Potter, Ophelia Potter."

The aristocrat immediately widened his eyes as did his son, their eyes snapped to her forehead, where the scar was hidden by her bangs. Ophelia, humorlessly, swept her bangs aside to reveal the scar before sweeping back to cover. The older man was the first to snap out of it, He reached and grasped her hand, only to bring it to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of her palm, "My apologies, Heir Potter, I had not known who you were. Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, and this is my son."

Following after his father, young Draco dipped into a boy and had done the same to her hand, "Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. It is an honour to be in your presence, Heir Potter."

"As it is for I to you, Lord Malfoy and Heir Malfoy." Ophelia smiled, lowering her hand. "It is my fault for running into you, perhaps I can accompany you to purchase items for Hogwarts?"

Lucius Malfoy positively beamed at that notion if he was a lesser man... which his son was, nodding excitedly. "It would be a pleasure, Heir Potter."

"Please, Ophelia would be fine." the young witch insisted, if the man was to agree, she had one alliance secured within her circle. Lucius inclined his head, "Very well. I must insist on being called Lucius in return."

"And I, Draco." Draco followed after, making Ophelia's smile grow even wider, "But of course."

The three of them walked out of Knocturn Alley, aware of the eyes that trained on them. Walking into the familiar light of Diagon Alley had Ophelia wincing a little at the change of scenery. Diagon Alley seems so neon now that she had experienced Knocturn Alley. "We are to buy Draco's textbooks first if the lady does not mind?"

Ophelia looked amused, "I'm sure I would not. In fact, I am in need of my own."

Pleased, Lucius led the two children towards Flourish and Bott's, a bookstore that was flooding with people. Ophelia looked disturbed, she had not wanted to mix in a large crowd. Biting down her displeasure, Ophelia walked in and recalled her book list. She grabbed the needed textbooks, fast, before looking for books that would strike her interest.

"The Wisdom of His Snake." was a book in the corner of the shop that was the most deserted, the cover was white and there was an image of a broken green globe. Ophelia picked it up and read the title, Imogen Slytherin.

Interesting.

Ophelia managed to snag a few more books that interested her before paying, wanting to leave as fast as she could. Lord Malfoy was already waiting outside with his son when she came out, "Apologies, Lor- Lucius, Draco. I was preoccupied with a few books that caught my interest."

"It is no hassle, Ophelia. Come, let us get wands for both yourself and my son." Lucius waved it off smoothly before leaving. Draco snuck glances at Ophelia, which made the girl smile at him, "Yes, Draco?"

Draco flushed, "Well, I was wondering who did you come here with?"

"I came by myself, of course." Ophelia answered, "The place I was in would not have wanted anything to do with me."

"What? Why not? I can't imagine any witch or wizard who wouldn't want anything to do with Ophelia Potter!" Draco exclaimed, unknowingly announcing his cover intention. Ophelia laughed, her laughter sent chills down Lucius's spine, it was not like how a child's laugh should be, it was cold, humourless and filled with malice- Like the Drk Lord's. "Perhaps. But _**muggles**_ want nothing to do with me and I want nothing to do with them."

"Muggles...?" Lucius backtracked, Ophelia Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, Golden Girl, The Girl Who Lived, was living with muggles? Ophelia gazed at him sharply, "Yes, in fact, I was in a Muggle Orphanage."

"An orphanage!" Lucius shook his head while Draco choked in disbelief, "We were led to assume that you lived with prominent wizards!"

"Whoever made them assumption was clearly _**wrong**_ ," Ophelia spat out, "Please, Lucius, we have arrived at Ollivander's. Let's move on from this topic."

"Indeed." Lucius agreed and entered the wand shop, it was narrow and dilapidated, peeling gold letters over the door read "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382BC". Ophelia's eyes were transfixed upon the single wand that lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. As she walked in and the door opened, a tinkling bell rang somewhere within the maze of a shop, Ophelia's immediate reaction was to look at the door, only to see there were no bells like in muggle stores. She briefly wondered if it was a charm and which charm it was.

The shop was surprisingly small, there was nothing but a single chair and boxes stacked one after another right up to the ceiling. A chill ran down her spine, the very dust, silence and breath that took place in here seemed to be laced with unpolished magic, Ophelia lit up in excitement.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Ophelia snapped her eyes opened and flashed to an old man who appeared all of a sudden, she was pretty sure he was Mr Ollivander, he had pale skin and eyes that were glassy like the moon in the night. Draco must've been startled too if the sudden yelp and reprimanding tone of his father was any indication.

"Hello," Ophelia replied, "Good afternoon to you too, sir."

"Ah, yes," said the man, whom Ophelia was going to call Mr Ollivander from now. "Yes, yes, I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Ophelia Potter."

Ophelia blinked at that. It had been a statement, not a question or any of such. An amused smile tug her lips, "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Ophelia titled her head, "First wand?"

"Yes, yes," Ollivander hummed, "Her second wand was of Alder wood and heartstring of an Antipodean Opaleye, acquired that from a friend I did. Your father, however, had been blessed by a mahogany wand. Eleven inches and pliable. A little more power than your mother's first and a little lesser than her second, excellent for Transfiguration. Well, the wand chooses it's wizard, of course."

"Wands.. are sentimental?" Ophelia questioned, she suppose it was, seeing how it was a heartstring of a species in her mother's second wand. "Of course, now... that's where..."

At this point, Ophelia realised Mr Ollivander had approached her so close that he and Ophelia were only millimetres apart. Ophelia could see the glassy eyes close enough to find her reflection in them, she had not even realised her bangs were out of place and scar in full view, "I must say, I'm sorry to have sold the wand that did it."

To her dismay at not getting more information, Ollivander spotted Lucius and Draco who had been silent since arriving. Ophelia was left to her musing as the man fitted the heir Malfoy of his wand. Ophelia reached a tentative hand to trace her scar, perhaps there was more to it then a remain of war.

"Well, shall we get started on your wand, Miss Potter?" Ollivander clapped his hand, snapping Ophelia out of her thoughts. She reprimanded herself internally for letting her guard down before smiling up at Ollivander, "Of course."

"Which is your wand hand, Miss Potter?" Ophelia knew the aristocrats were watching her and smiled, "I'm ambidextrous. I prefer my left, if it helps."

Ollivander smiled, "Of course, hold out your hand, yes that's it..."

Ophelia eyes were fixed on the tape measure that was measuring between his nostrils, when Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down one box after another. She occasionally tuned her hearing to listen to Ollivander –"No two Ollivander wands are the same, and of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand!" –but her attention was more on the measuring tape. How was it possible, of course it was magic, but what worked behind it? Ophelia licked her lips in anticipation, she really could not wait to go to Hogwarts –or back to the Orphanage to read her books.

"That will do," Mr Ollivander said as the tape measure came crumbling down, "Right then, MIss Potter, let's find you a wand. Here, try this one, Beech wood, dragon heartstring. Nine inches, nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Ophelia took the wand, eyeing it curiously before waving the wand down, there were sparks but Mr Ollivander snatched it out of her hand, "Hm, not quite. Here, take this one, Maple and phoenix feather, seven inches and surprisingly whippy –"

Ophelia waved it and something exploded, Draco yelped undignifiedly and Lucius wisely chose to take multiple steps back. The wand was taekn out of her hand, "Oh, dear, here – Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and half inches, go on."

Ophelia felt a tingle but it had not been quite right, so the wand was taken away yet again, Ophelia merely tried another, and another, the boxes stacked up. Ollivander looked at her, "Perhaps that one would do, but I do have my doubts. Here, Holly and Phoenix Feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Ophelia waved this one down harsher than she had before, two rows of wands exploded and tossed all wands apart. Ollivander flinched back in shock, "Oh, dear, I knew this one didn't quite fit you when Ebony and Beech nearly had, now how bout this one – yes, Aspen and Phoenix Feather, very powerful, twelve inches and bendy, go on."

Ophelia held the beautiful white wand and flicked her hand, she felt a warmth explode from the tp of her fingers and surrounded her entire body, she waved it a little more and flowers exploded out of nowhere and soon the shop was raining flowers of all types, along with gold, silver and bronze flakes. The Potter heir widened her eyes in astounishment and lit up.

Mr Ollivander was smiling brightly, "Oh bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good, but well, curious, very curious."

He placed her wand back into the box and wrapped it up with brown paper, chanting "Curious" over and over again. Slightly irritated, Ophelia questioned the older man, "Tell me, what's could possibly be so curious about my wand, Mr Ollivander?"

Mr Ollivander fixed Ophelia with his dead stare. "I remember every single wand I've sold, Ms Potter, every single wand. Coincidentally, the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another, just one other. I had wanted to match it with a Holly wood, but it would be difficult and another wood had called for me –which is your wand wood, Aspen. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for such a wand when the brother gave you that scar you try so hard to hide."

Ophelia grinned internally, she could hear the muffled shock of Lucius Malfoy and a distinct gasp of Draco Malfoy. How very interesting, she shared a connection with her parents' murderer, perhaps next they could hear each other's thoughts?

" – He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things, terrible, yes, but great." she heard Ollivander finish his speech. She was liking this wandmaker more and more. She paid seven galleons and left with Lord Malfoy and His Heir, Aphophis peeked his head out to lick her neck, before disappearing from sight. It was beautiful experience indeed...

OMG! I'm so sorry, I'm on my senior year and there have been loads of homework being stacked up and I end up having completely forgotten about my books. I'm sorry, I'm such an awful author ಥ_ಥ

This chapter will probably the shittiest among any because I only started on this several hours ago, it's a rush thing since I don't want to drag the delay of update any longer. Usually I take two to three days to write a chapter properly, I'm so sorry but I don't think this chapter would have the same quality as the previous ones.

Previously on Marked as an Equal, many of you gave me very cool answers on what Ophelia's wand wood would be. I must admit, I was beyond impressed. Some of you even explained why you think it is suitable, which I appreciate. And I'm chnaging the schedule, it's too hard to cope.

Anyways, no doubt this chapter was bad but nevertheless, I hope you find yourself enjoying this chapter. （・・）


	5. Note

I'm sorry that this isn't the chapter you expect after I finally showed up from what seems to be a hundred years long break. But fortunately and unfortunately, I have two news today. I will be discontinuing "Marked as an Equal" and "Of Titles and Courtroom". But, I will rewrite them under the same name. Once the first chapter of each book is up, the old ones would be taken down immediately.

I need to discontinue them because the way I wanted to portray both versions of Harry didn't come out right. My friend pointed out several humiliating areas where I completely screwed it over.

For the book "Marked as an Equal", I have Ophelia (that version of Harry) completely following after Tom Riddle. Which would not be good for a long-term scenario. Moreover, her etiquette I tried to display was slightly off. To edit the whole book, it would take me the same amount of time for me to rewrite an entire book. When I mean rewrite, I do not mean editing parts of the chapter before republishing it. I can't do that, not when I have the ability to reconstruct the book from scratch once more. Additionally, the interaction between the Malfoys and Ophelia escalated too quickly. Apophis (her snake) would be too much of a burden in future chapters because I honestly can't see Ophelia as someone who would bother to take care of her pet snake when she can turn the wizarding world into her own playground. So, I'm rewriting it. The basic things are roughly the same but the way I bring her up as a character is likely to be different (at least from my perspective).

For the book "Of Titles and Courtrooms", it is even worse than the book mentioned above. Not only is the interactions unrealistic, the pace was too fast and the characters were too out of character. I resent reading OOC characters, to finally realise that my own story showed those characteristics was simply horrible. Since the beginning, I've decided for this book to be Black-Centric and be filled with heavy wizarding politics. I wanted Lyra to be someone who was strong-willed, resourceful, compassionate, intelligent and cunning. Not the bubbly, faked and naive girl I portrayed in the last chapter of the book. It was an embarrassment for me to do that.

To the readers who continued to read my book, liked my stories and waited for my return. Thank you with all my heart for being with me. I hope that you will continue reading the rewritten version of each book and wish that the new books would be up to your standards.

Thank you.

\- Redb4Black


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